i'm of the opinion that beautiful things should be shared.
I saw this a while ago-- and I'm not really sure what's making me think of it now.
There's a part of my campus called the Sunken Gardens, and while they're not so much gardens in the traditional sense-- "Sunken Lawn With Palm Trees" would be more accurate-- they're certainly set a bit apart from the rest of campus, from the road that borders it or the alumni mall that heads southward from its edge. They're by no means private; in fact, I think they're the least private place on campus, from a visibility standpoint, and that's part of what made seeing this so powerful.
A month or so ago, I was walking back from my Japanese class (which gets out at 1:50) to my dorm, a trek that requires me to cross the Sunken Gardens. I was midway down the path when I noticed two figures sitting in the shade of one of the palm trees-- just in the very edge of the shade, though, like they'd been sitting there for a while and the shade had moved. I don't know either of the boys' names, just that they occasionally go to GSA meetings, but I knew they were a couple just by their dynamic when I'd seen them before.
My friends know this about me: I am an avid appreciator of both body language and the human form (not that the two are entirely unconnected). Maybe that's the other part of why I thought seeing them was so powerful.
One of them, the taller of the two, was sitting cross-legged in the grass, leaning back on both hands and looking down. His boyfriend was stretched out in front of him, laying with his shoulderblades against the place where his boyfriend's legs crossed and his head resting on his boyfriend's thigh. They weren't even talking, nothing-- just sitting and watching each other, but I could tell just from their gazes how deeply they care for each other. They were happy just sitting in the shade and looking at each other. And that was sort of beautiful.
I don't know why I'm writing about this right now. I guess it's just because in the last few days, I've seen so many things that have been extremely damaging to my faith in humanity, and I need a way to remind myself: It's a fucking stupid messed-up world out there, but even so, there are still things that are true and honest and loving and trusting and beautiful and good. Humankind has an incredible capacity for cruelty, but its capacity for cruelty has nothing on its capacity for kindness.
There are still things in the world that are beautiful.
Or, to quote Max Ehrmann: "With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."
There's a part of my campus called the Sunken Gardens, and while they're not so much gardens in the traditional sense-- "Sunken Lawn With Palm Trees" would be more accurate-- they're certainly set a bit apart from the rest of campus, from the road that borders it or the alumni mall that heads southward from its edge. They're by no means private; in fact, I think they're the least private place on campus, from a visibility standpoint, and that's part of what made seeing this so powerful.
A month or so ago, I was walking back from my Japanese class (which gets out at 1:50) to my dorm, a trek that requires me to cross the Sunken Gardens. I was midway down the path when I noticed two figures sitting in the shade of one of the palm trees-- just in the very edge of the shade, though, like they'd been sitting there for a while and the shade had moved. I don't know either of the boys' names, just that they occasionally go to GSA meetings, but I knew they were a couple just by their dynamic when I'd seen them before.
My friends know this about me: I am an avid appreciator of both body language and the human form (not that the two are entirely unconnected). Maybe that's the other part of why I thought seeing them was so powerful.
One of them, the taller of the two, was sitting cross-legged in the grass, leaning back on both hands and looking down. His boyfriend was stretched out in front of him, laying with his shoulderblades against the place where his boyfriend's legs crossed and his head resting on his boyfriend's thigh. They weren't even talking, nothing-- just sitting and watching each other, but I could tell just from their gazes how deeply they care for each other. They were happy just sitting in the shade and looking at each other. And that was sort of beautiful.
I don't know why I'm writing about this right now. I guess it's just because in the last few days, I've seen so many things that have been extremely damaging to my faith in humanity, and I need a way to remind myself: It's a fucking stupid messed-up world out there, but even so, there are still things that are true and honest and loving and trusting and beautiful and good. Humankind has an incredible capacity for cruelty, but its capacity for cruelty has nothing on its capacity for kindness.
There are still things in the world that are beautiful.
Or, to quote Max Ehrmann: "With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."